Phone Call
by stephaniew
Summary: A devastating phone call rips Sophia from between the sheets and out of Dean's arms. Fiercely protective, he refuses to let her drive off alone. Can his feelings guide her through or will she leave him stranded on the side of the highway? Dean/OC.


A/N: I wasn't sure whether to post this or not, but my lovely beta encouraged me to go ahead. This one shows a different side of our boy, Dean, and how he's changed since Sophia entered his life. It also shows a different side of the very strong-willed Sophia. It's pretty angst-filled, even for me, but I did enjoy writing it. I hope you enjoy it as well. Reviews are appreciated!

Always the most thanks to my **Mali ****Bear****'****s ****Buddy**, my amazing friend and beta. She's always there for me, even when I'm moody, and I do so appreciate all her support. Please support her fanfiction efforts by checking out all her great stories here. I promise you won't be disappointed!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone you might recognize.

Phone Call

"Dean," she whines, "I'm sleeping."

All she gets in response to her protest is a soft chuckle and more persuasive kisses on the back of her neck. He knows that drives her crazy, damn him.

She sighs heavily and rolls onto her back. She tries to look stern, or at least martyred, but fails completely in the face of the adorable smile he gives her.

"You're insatiable," she murmurs, a soft moan escaping her as his rough hand caresses her breast.

"You're hot," he replies, leaning down to capture her mouth with his.

At that moment, her cell phone starts to trill.

He growls as she tries shifting away to reach it.

"It could be important, Dean," she scolds, scooting out from under him.

He flops onto his back with a heavy sigh. "I can't think of anything more important than sex," he mumbles petulantly.

She snickers as she picks up the phone and presses the button to answer. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end is garbled at first and she's not sure who it is. As she's trying to decipher the caller's words, she feels Dean roll towards her and start kissing her back. Rolling her eyes, she reaches around and gives him a shove. She hears him sprawl melodramatically across the bed with an injured grunt.

"Wait," she says, "I can't hear you. Can you say that again?"

Suddenly the connection resolves itself and she can hear everything. She can feel the blood drain from her face as she makes sense of the words.

She turns slightly on the bed, reaching for Dean.

He immediately senses the change in mood and grabs her hand. Sitting up, he leans close, eyes searching her face.

"Yes, yes," she murmurs. "Yes, I understand."

She closes her eyes and leans against Dean, feeling his warm arms surround her. She savors the comfort knowing she's going to have to give it up in just moments.

"Ok. That would be fine." She glances at the bedside clock. "Yes, we...I...can be there this afternoon. I appreciate your call. Thank you. Goodbye."

Disconnecting the call, she stares off into the distance for a few seconds, then tries to shrug off Dean's embrace. "I have to go," she says as she struggles to get out of bed, her voice thick with emotion.

"Go where, babe? What's going on? What happened?" His voice is gentle, as is his touch, as he tries to hold her. So gentle it nearly breaks through the tight grip she's holding on her emotions.

Clinging desperately to her control, she pushes him away at last and scrambles to her feet. "I have to go," she repeats.

She scrabbles through the clothes on the floor, looking for whatever she had on yesterday. Control is tested again as she remembers how her clothes ended up scattered across the floor.

He'd been so tender last night. He'd carried her upstairs to their room and undressed her slowly. His mouth and hands had explored every inch of her skin. She'd felt adored. Desired. Loved. And now...

She's struggling into her jeans when he appears in front of her, fully dressed. She glances at him, forehead creasing in a frown, as she reaches for her shirt and pulls it roughly over her head.

He remains quiet as she pulls on her shoes and heads for the door. She wonders briefly if he's really going to let her go this easily.

Her question is answered moments later as he follows her out of the house and opens the passenger side door of the Mustang.

"What are you doing?" she says sharply.

"I'm going with you." His tone is calm, but clearly says there will be no argument.

She ignores the implied command. "No." She shakes her head. "No."

She needs to get away. She's not going to be able to hold onto her emotions indefinitely. Just his presence, the look he gives her over the roof of the car, causes more cracks in the already fragile wall.

His jaw clenches and she knows she's not going to win this one. He can be just as stubborn as she is.

He opens the car door and slips inside. Fishing his sunglasses out of the glove box, he slides them on and settles back in the seat.

She swallows hard. Throws some more mortar on the wall around her emotions. Smacking her hand on the top of the car, she gives up and gets in, slamming the door behind her.

Her hands are trembling so badly, she drops the keys as she tries to put them in the ignition. With a curse, she snatches them off the floor and shoves the key in place.

Anger and frustration fueling her, she slams the car into gear and sends it screaming down the driveway, fishtailing in the gravel. Anger is good. Anger is easy. Anger will help keep away the other feelings threatening to choke her.

Out on the highway, she floors the gas, rocketing down the asphalt. She's always liked to drive fast, but today the turmoil inside her pushes her. Makes her reckless. She's not sure what she's running from, or maybe running toward. Either way, speed means freedom. Nothing can touch her while she's moving.

She can focus on the road. On the growl of the Mustang's engine. The whoosh of the asphalt. The rush of the wind. On keeping the tires on the road. Everything else melts away.

So lost is she in her speed induced bubble, the feel of Dean's hand on her thigh makes her flinch. She sucks in a deep breath, tightening her fingers on the wheel.

"Don't," she says shortly, never taking her eyes off the road.

He gives her leg a squeeze before withdrawing his hand.

It's quiet for another hour as they fly down the luckily deserted highway. She feels his eyes on her, but she can ignore that. She's beginning to think she might get through this intact after all.

Until he speaks. Somehow he knows the one thing that will blast through her walls like a wrecking ball into an aging building. The one thing she can't resist. The one thing she can't push away.

"I love you."

She gasps as her chest squeezes tight. Her eyes fill with tears and blur her vision, forcing her to slow. She sees a dirt road cutoff and turns down it. Struggling to get a breath, she brings the car to stop.

She opens the door and nearly falls out of the door. But she doesn't make it all the way to the ground before he's there to catch her.

They're on their knees in the dirt. His arms are tight around her. His voice, sounding nearly as choked as hers did earlier, echoes in her ear.

"It's ok, let it go. I've got you, baby. We'll get through this. I'm here."

And she does. With a gasping breath, she lets the last of the wall crumble down. Her fingers curl in the front of his shirt as she holds on for dear life. Sobs wrack her body, raw and ugly. Years of pent up anguish come shrieking to the surface and tumble out all at once.

Dean sits down on the dry mud, pulling her into his lap, rocking her. His hands rub circles on her back. He presses kisses in her hair, on her temple. His rough voice in her ear keeps her grounded. Keeps the pain from consuming her completely. Keeps her here.

She cries until there aren't any more tears. Until she's thoroughly empty. Until she's exhausted.

She slowly comes back to herself. As she does, she's more than a little horrified. She's completely come undone right there in his arms. She's not supposed to do that. Not supposed to fall apart in front of him, of all people. She's supposed to be strong. She's supposed to be able to handle anything.

She scrubs at her face roughly, clearing away the tears. Tries to decide how to get out of this.

But Dean's several steps ahead of her. One arm tightens around her waist as the other reaches for her chin. He turns her to face him, rolling over her resistance gently, but forcefully.

His gaze finds hers and she's shocked to see tears drying on his cheeks.

"Don't push me away again, Sophia," he whispers fiercely. "Just don't even try. I'm not going to let you shut me out."

She scrambles to her feet, but he's right with her, holding her wrist.

"I'm fine now, Dean," she mumbles, rapidly withdrawing, putting the shields back up. "I'm sorry I lost it like that."

"Oh, please. Give me fucking break. You just spent the last 10 minutes sobbing in my arms, but you're fine now?"

He steps closer, invading her space. "Why won't you talk to me?" The hurt and sadness in his voice stabs at her.

This is not how it's supposed to go.

"I can't," she finally manages. "I can't. This...it's fine. But you weren't supposed to see me like this. You shouldn't."

She hears him suck in a breath.

"Why not?" he asks softly.

If she hadn't been so raw, she would never have answered him honestly. But the words just pour out.

"Because you can't. Because I have to be strong. Strong for you and Sam. Because if I'm weak, I can't protect you and you can't trust me to keep you safe. Because I have to save you."

Her hand flies to her mouth, but it's too late. The words are out there, hanging between them in the suddenly deafening silence.

After a what seems like an eternity, she dares to look up at him.

He's staring at her with a look of stunned frustration on his face.

He swallows hard and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, so many things flash through them, she can't identify any one emotion properly.

For her part, she can only stand and watch him. Her fingers flex and her feet itch to run away. To escape.

But she stays. It's as if she's rooted to the spot. Pinned under the weight of his gaze. It's far, far too late to get away from him now, even if she wanted to.

When he finally reacts, it's not what she expects.

He pulls her into his arms as his mouth descends on hers. His kiss is heated, desperate and wild, but still gentle and tender. It fills the places left empty by her tears. It warms her from head to toe.

She's breathless and dizzy when he releases her mouth, only to find herself being shaken slightly.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman," he murmurs. "I don't know even know how to start to respond to that. You..."

He shakes his head, then moves his hands up to cup her face, tilting it up to his. "Listen. You're the strongest person I've ever met. You don't need to prove that to me. I see it every day. And outside of Sam, there's no one else I'd trust to have my back on any day in any situation than you."

He pauses, his thumbs sliding over her cheekbones. When he speaks again, his voice is tight with emotion. "You've already saved me. You save me every day. Your smile, your laugh, your smartass mouth, your love. All of it."

"But none of that means you can't take something back in return. It doesn't mean you can't lean on me. It doesn't mean you can't break down every once in awhile," he continues, smiling a little wistfully. "Do you have any idea how much I want to take care of you? How much I want to give you?"

Her eyes widen slightly. "Take care of me?" she asks tentatively.

He chuckles softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Yeah, babe, take care of you. Rub your feet, get you a drink, help you research a case, make sure you eat, make sure you get downtime." His tone is lighthearted at first, but gets more serious as he continues. "Dry your tears. Make you laugh. Listen to your fears, your frustrations. Hear about your past, your present, what you want for the future."

Finally breaking free of his gaze, she looks down. Watches her foot scratch restlessly at the dried mud. "You do all those things," she mumbles.

He sighs. "Yeah, sure, when you let me. Even this morning, you reached out for me when you got that call. Let me hold you for a minute. And then you turned me away."

Another thick silence stretches between them.

"I'm sorry," she says finally. Raising her eyes back to his, she continues, "You and Sam have been through so much. I didn't want to add to that. I want to add something good to your lives, not turn myself into another liability, another responsibility. If I can take care of myself, it's less you have to worry about. One less burden on your shoulders."

Anger flashes in his eyes. "Do you seriously think I see you that way? As a burden? A liability?"

She shakes her head instantly. Her hand finds his chest, slides over his heart. "No, not now. But if I'm leaning on you all the time, you will in the end. And I can't let that happen." Her fingers flex, digging into his shirt. "I need you too much already."

As a reply, he steps forward, backing her up against the car. The full length of his body drapes over her, her arms pinned between them. His hands come to rest on the roof on either side of her head.

She stares up at him, biting her lip.

He leans so close, she can feel his warm breath on her face. His eyes as green as she's ever seen them. She feels her defeat looming. Probably why she's always avoided this confrontation. She finds it nearly impossible to resist him. Resist the almost gravitational pull between them.

"Do you trust me?" he murmurs.

She nods.

"Do you trust that I love you?"

Another nod.

"Then act like it."

She gasps, recoiling as if she's been slapped.

"If we're gonna be together, we have to be together. A team. Equally," he says, stroking her hair. "Sometimes you'll hold me up, sometimes I'll hold you up. You don't have to protect me from you. We'll protect each other from the world."

Her eyes go wide and she sucks in a surprised breath as something clicks into place inside her. She wriggles her arms free and wraps them around him, burying her face in his chest. Her fingers tangle in the back of his shirt as she pulls him even closer.

He leans them away from the car so he can wrap his arms around her in turn. His hold is so tight she can barely breathe, but it doesn't matter.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she mumbles.

"Shhhh," he whispers in ear. "No apologies."

Taking a deep breath, she leans back so she can see his face. The love blazing in his eyes distracts her for a moment, but she focuses determinedly on what she wants to say.

"The phone call was from the family lawyer," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. "My mother's only sister, my aunt. She's...she's in the hospital in Cherryville. They don't think she's got more than a few days." She swallows past the lump in her throat. "She wants to see me."

"Ahh, babe, I'm sorry," he says, eyes now filled with sympathy.

"I don't really know her all that well, actually. She and my mother didn't really get along," she says. "But she's... She's all that's..."

He squeezes her gently. "She's the last of your family?"

She nods. "Yeah. Last one I know of anyway." She shrugs. "It shouldn't matter all that much. Like I said, I hardly know her."

"Family is important," he says softly. "And you've lost a lot family. When we lost Mom and then Dad, Sammy and I didn't have anyone but each other. It's hard. It makes you feel...alone."

He tips her face back up to his. "But you're not alone. We may not be blood family, but Sam loves you like a sister. Hell, even Bobby loves you, and he doesn't like anybody," he says with a laugh.

She smiles in return. "I know," she murmurs, "I know I'm not alone. It just reminded me of a lot of...things. Things I try not to think about."

"I understand," he says quietly. "There may be a thing or two I've hidden away and not dealt with until it came out and strangled me."

This earns him a rueful laugh. "I can't argue with that," she replies, finally finding some of her spark.

"There's my girl," he says, rolling his eyes.

Any smart reply she might have made is lost as he moves to kiss her again. She melts into him, into the kiss. Lets it speak for her. Hears it speak to her. Feels it continue to heal her.

"We should probably go," he says as he reluctantly releases her mouth.

Nodding, she reaches up and brushes another kiss across his lips. "Thank you," she says seriously.

"Back atcha, babe," he replies with a smile. "But I'm driving now."

Rolling her eyes, she starts for the passenger side. "And why is that, big man?" she grumbles.

"Because you scare me" is his reply as he slams the door, the sound just barely covering her shout of laughter.


End file.
